


Joy in the North

by Veridissima



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-03-31 11:28:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3976423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veridissima/pseuds/Veridissima
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Starks leave King's Landing, wolves and lions need to work together to find a suitable match, and give both parties the peace and happiness they want</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I - Jon Snow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SandyD](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SandyD/gifts).



> Happy Birthday, Sandy!!! This fic was written for this birthday girl, who ships JoJo (Joy and Jon a lot)!!
> 
> While I hope I made myself clear in the actual fic, I’m just going to explain a few things before. Firstly, the Starks get out the first moment Ned talks about leaving. Sansa does go tell a Lannister, but Joffrey instead who makes some rush decisions and insults (that leads to Sansa seeing his true colours as well), and even talks about taking Ned into custody – Robert and Cersei stop him.  
> So Robert doesn’t die when he dies in canon either, now if he’s alive here or not is completely up to you, and the same with what decisions Stannis has made.
> 
> Secondly, Ned told Catelyn about Jon’s parentage after he came back from the Greyjoy’s Rebellion.
> 
> Finally, to clear any confusion that I know some people have had before – Joy Hill is not an Original Character, she is the actual bastard daughter of Tywin Lannister’s youngest brother, Gerion, who disappeared in Essos when Joy was young.
> 
> I think this is all… ENJOY!! And I apologize for any possible mistakes, I’ve used no beta and English is not my mother language.
> 
> ENJOY!!!

The last year had been a complicated one for their family, it started with his father and his sisters leaving for King’s Landing. Jon had accompanied them until the Riverlands, before he followed a different path South; he rode through the Stormlands and the Reach, he was almost through Dorne when he heard the news and rode North the faster he could.

Jon couldn’t be gladder that his father had insisted that he travelled through the world before he went to the Night’s Watch, like he was planning. Jon still wanted to go, but he needed to make sure that his family was safe, before leaving.

There was another good thing about staying, or maybe not such a good thing, he couldn’t tell yet – Jon now knew who his mother was. There wasn’t much he could do with the information, after all he found that not only his mother was dead, but so was his father (meaning that Lord Stark had never been his father). Jon thought about leaving them, but instead he roamed the halls of Winterfell avoiding his father… _uncle_ … until he made peace with the information, and turned back again to more important business.

Since Father came back, he had been trying to annul Sansa’s bethroal to Joffrey, the Lannister seemed to want the annulment as well, but they also requested that another engagement between both Houses was announced – Lady Stark affirmed it was a way to guarantee that they wouldn’t betray the crown; his father kept saying that his word should be enough.

So the Lord and Lady of Winterfell spent most time in the solar with Maester Luwin, trying to decide which would be the best choice. In place of Joffrey, they offered most of the Lannister boys close to their ages for both his sisters and even for young Rickon, they offered a baby girl. But his father and wife didn’t want to send any of their girls South, or promise Rickon so young.

“Jon,” his brother said, nudging him. “Father is calling for you,” he told him. Jon took his eyes away from his food, and his mind from the clouds, and faced his father sitting at the head of the table, with his wife next to him.

“Sorry, Lord Stark. I wasn’t paying attention.”

“I wasn’t calling for long, Jon. I just wanted to ask you if you could accompany me to my solar, after we finish our meal.”

“Of course, my lord,” he answered. His father didn’t call him to his solar much. When he was little, he knew that when he and his brother were called, it meant they were in trouble, but nowadays he wasn’t sure, what he could want.

They finished their meal, with Rickon retelling a tale about his training. He wasn’t doing much yet, but he was excited to finally be learning how to properly hold a wooden sword.

His younger siblings left the table first, Jon smiled how Bran could now go around the Keep; that he was getting used to his wheeled chair, Jon knew that Bran relished on any kind of independence nowadays. And when his father stood up, Jon stood after him; Robb did as well, but Father asked him to stay.

“Is there something wrong, Father?” Jon asked when they were alone, walking to his solar.

“Nothing more than the usual. But I prefer to talk to you in the solar.” Jon nodded, and kept up with father’s pace, and in silence they walked to his solar. His father held the door opened, and Jon waited until his father had sat for him to sit as well.

“So I’m sure you’re wondering why I brought you here.” Jon didn’t answer, and let his father keep talking. “As you know we’ve been in talks with the Lannisters, trying to get your sister out of marrying the prince.”

“I know, Father. Did something happen?”

“I got a letter from Lord Tyrion today, out of the negotiations but with a proposal that I could make, and that he’s positive that his father will accept.”

“What is it, Father? Why did you call for me?”

“The proposal was about you, Jon.”

“I’m only a bastard son, Father.”

“I know, and all of Westeros knows it; but they also how much I care for you, Jon.”

“I know that, Father.”

“Lord Tyrion suggested that I offer you to marry the daughter of Tywin’s youngest brother. She is a bastard as well.”

“This would keep Sansa and Arya here.”

“It would, at least for now. They can’t stay here forever, but we’ll be more careful arranging another match for either of them.” That would be good, that was what Jon wanted to do, protect them, make sure his family was safe. “You don’t need to take it, Jon – you can think about it.”

“What’s her name?”

“Joy, Joy Hill. According to Lord Tyrion, she’s been raised in Casterly Rock, but doesn’t seem too influenced by Lord Lannister.”

“He said that.”

“Lady Catelyn read that between the lines.” His father should have taken his wife with him to King’s Landing, she could have helped him at Court.

“How old is she?”

“Only one year older than Arya. Eleven. So the wedding wouldn’t be too soon; with that you would be given some land in the North – we would agree in any place you want; and we could probably work to get you both your own name and house – I would like that for you, Jon, and I’m sure her family would help her.”

“My own land, my own name…” Jon wanted that. At the Night’s Watch, he could rise above his station but he could here as well – he would have his own name.

“Yes, Jon. But there’s another way for you to have your own name and land. Lady Catelyn told me that I need to tell you to this clearly, to remind you. Jon, how much you call me father, and I look to you as a son; you now know that’s not the truth. Saying yes to the Lannisters is connecting you to them – the royal family. You’ll be walking away from your heritage. You…”

“I would not be walking away from heritage. I would be taking it, I’m of the North, _Father_ ; I would be protecting my family, my sisters and brothers. I would be helping the North,” Jon said; he had pondered enough since his father told him about his new position in the world, but nothing changed, Ned was still going to be his father and he didn’t want to be King, and we certainly didn’t want to be the one bringing a war to the Seven Kingdoms.

“I thank you and your wife for thinking of my possible future, but I don’t want it.” Jon knew how hard it had probably been for Lady Stark to mention to his father to remember Jon of that. She had never treated him badly; he barely remembered the time she ignored him and didn’t address him (not that had ever been too bad, a life as a bastard could have been much worse), most of his life she had treated as another one of the children of the household, much like Jeyne or Beth; (and only after talking to his father did he realize that the change came from knowing the truth). But he also knew the truth made her fear something else, that someday he would take her husband and sons to war.

“Are you sure, Jon?”

“I am. You can send the proposal to Lord Lannister, Father.”

“I’ll send it on the morrow, Jon. You can still change your mind, until then.” Jon didn’t need to think anything over; he would protect his siblings, and (with a more selfish thought) he would rise above bastard.

Soon after Jon left his father’s solar, and joined Robb and Theon in the training yard, neither seemed to have many questions. Jon was grateful for that; he didn’t want to announce anything until the proposal was accepted.

* * *

Nobody had seen Lady Stark this busy since the royal visit, not that as many people were coming; but it was still the princess and Master of Coin.

But Jon wasn’t worried about that, he waited to meet his betrothed, the girl he would someday marry. He didn’t expect anything from her right now, she couldn’t be anything but his friend at her young age, but he hoped they could find some common ground between them.

According to the last letter that arrived they would be here today at sundown, Lady Stark had insisted that they were all dressed in their best clothes. This time Jon would be standing closer to the first row, that he had in the royal visit, since he needed to be properly introduced to his wife-to-be.

“So are you feeling about this?” Robb asked walking next to him. “Nervous.”

“Yes.”

“Do you fear she will be ugly?” Robb asked. “They did say that she had the Lannister look, and the Queen was hot.”

“But a tight cunt, I’m sure. She looked like an ice bitch,” Theon said. “So you think your bastard will be a cold bitch too?” he asked smirking.

“Shut up, Greyjoy!!” Jon growled to the Winterfell ward, before leaving them alone.

“Wait up, Jon!!” Robb yelled, catching up with Jon and following him to the yard. He wanted to train a bit before they got here it would help relax him. “Sorry for Theon. He was just being himself.”

“I know… but she’s going to be my wife. I don’t want him to talk like that about her.”

“So you’re happy about marrying her?”

“I’m glad I can protect Sansa and Arya…”

“I’m not talking about duty. I’m talking about the girls. It’s better than not having sex for the rest of your life, right?” Robb asked. But Jon had dreamed of the Night’s Watch since he started becoming an adult, it would be his chance to be more than Ned Stark’s bastard son, but now he wouldn’t have that change.

“I want to do my best by her. But she’s still very young.”

“She will grow up, and that means you’ll have more time to get to know her – maybe that’s better than a quick wedding…”

“Maybe… Ohhh… how do you feel about the Princess coming here?” Jon asked wanting to change the subject.

“Why should I feel something?” Robb asked, knocking his sword against Jon’s.

“She liked you.”

“She’s too young. And father seems to be looking for a bride for me in the North or in the Riverlands.”

“Do you feel nervous about that?”

“Not really, I know I’ll get the final say on it,” Robb answered. “But I do know I have to get married before you.” That at least was good news, hopefully his father would take awhile to find a suitable wife for the Heir of Winterfell.

“At least that. So what ladies do you have your eyes on?”

“Father has been talking with Lord Karstark.”

“Lady Alys Karstark is pretty, brother. You would be lucky to have her.”

“Maybe… But come on, let’s just fight before we need to go get ready again.” And spar they did; they spared until one of the servants came to tell them they needed to get ready.

Now, they all stood in a line, like they had done in what seemed like an eternity before. And this time Jon stood with them, in the furthest edge, waiting for the committee to arrive. It didn’t take long for the first horses to enter through the East Gate, two knights rode clothed each in a white cloak; as any other person in the Seven Kingdoms, he recognized one as Ser Barristan, the Bold, older than in the stories but still deserving the same respect, but the other knight he couldn’t identify.

Behind rode Lord Tyrion Lannister, Jon noticed the details in the saddle he sat upon, he thought back for the one he designed for his brother, Bran. And then there was a smaller and simpler carriage than the one in the royal visit; and a few more people riding behind, soldiers mostly.

Lord Tyrion was the first to dismount, with the help of a squire, who seemed to be the same age as Sansa. And the Lord made the short talk to open the carriage door, he held his hand out, and a soft, small and fair hand took it, and after the Princess stepped out of the carriage, and the people, including the Starks, bowed. Jon still tried to look from his lower position, the princess was blushing and another hand as fair, small and delicate rested on Lord Tyrion’s, but Jon dropped his head again, before he could see her.

Hearing the princess’ footsteps stepping closer, he heard her giving them leave to stand up. Standing up, Jon tried to look for his betrothed, but he couldn’t see her properly, hiding near the horses; so he turned his eyes back to the young princess.

His father kissed her hand and welcomed her to the North, and his wife did the same. One year older, but she still blushed under Robb’s gaze – Jon could hear Theon snickering behind him; stopping in front of Sansa, they weren’t sure how to behave, he noticed the princess biting her lip and in the end, they simply held hands, smiled and said.

“I missed you my friend.”

“I did too, Your Grace,” Sansa said, bowing just a bit.

Arya was different, she did her best to curtsey, but the princess told her she didn’t need to.

“It’s great to see you again, Lady Arya.” And before she could answer she moved on to Bran, who kissed her hand.

“I was happy to hear of your recovery, Lord Bran.”

“I’m sorry I worried you,” he answered politely, before quickly adding. “…Your Grace.”

And Rickon reached for her hand, the princess was careful to bend a bit, so he could kiss her hand.

“You’ve grown a bit since I last saw you, Lord Rickon.”

“Thank you, Princess.”

Finally she stood in front of him, her features her kind and fair, and she unlike most highborn didn’t look at him with disdain.

“I don’t think we were properly introduced the last time I was here, Jon Snow. I’m Myrcella Baratheon, the Princess of the Seven Kingdoms,” she introduced herself, and presented her hand to him. “But I’m sure you’d prefer to be introduced to someone else instead, my dear cousin, Joy Hill,” the princess called, offering her open hand to her cousin. She took it and Jon finally saw her, she wasn’t that different from the princess.

She was clearly young, but it was obvious she would be a beautiful woman – she had green emerald eyes as well, and golden hair too, but straighter and longer than the princess, braided into a very long braid. Her skin was not as fair as the princess, more red toned and with a few freckles and maybe even dimples. Her dress was Lannister red, but simpler, without many adornments.

She didn’t have the refined walking of the princess either, or even Sansa, much like Arya, she didn’t seem to walk straight and gracefully, and then she was in front of him.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, my lady,” he said, kissing her hand.

“We both know I’m not a lady. If you allow me to call you by your first name, I’ll allow you the same. Better put aside false pretences.” Her words reminded him of the talk he had with her uncle long ago – it made sense, they were all Lannisters after all.

“Jon, you may call me.”

“Joy,” she said. Jon noticed that the Princess had stepped back and he knew it was his duty to introduce her to his family.

She took his hand as offered, noticing how shorter than him she was, and moved to the Lord and Lady of Winterfell.

“Lord Stark, Lady Stark, I would like to present you to my betrothed, Joy Hill.”

“My Lord, my Lady,” she said curtsying, and he noticed that while she did it with more grace than Arya, she didn’t have the refinement of Sansa – she was a bastard like him, after all.

“Welcome to our home,” Lady Catelyn said, and his father shared the same sentiment.

He helped down the line, introducing her to Robb who kissed her hand and remarked on her beauty, the girl blushed – and he hoped she wasn’t infatuated with his brother as well. Sansa welcomed her as well, and then Arya, who obviously felt more at ease with his betrothed than with the Princess – Jon was glad, it was important to him that Arya liked her.

Bran seemed to have the same charm as his older brother, making her blush as well, as he kissed her hand. And Rickon having heard Jon’s conversation with her was just happy to call her by her first name.

Finished the introductions, they moved inside and the feast would start soon, but first the guests were lead to their chambers so they could freshen up. And Jon’s own family immediately turned to him.

“She will grow to be a beautiful lady, Jon,” Lady Catelyn said, and Robb agreed immediately.

“Yes. You’re a lucky man, Snow.” He wanted to tell his brother to shut up but kept himself from such commentaries.

“I do think she will grow to be beautiful, and she seemed nice too,” Jon answered, while his father gave him a look, probably trying to tell if he was lying or not.  

Robb kept making comments next to him, and Arya was trying to come closer to ask something, as they moved to the Great Hall, they waited there until the guest arrived, with that they stood, as the guest took their seats. And then the rest of their travelling companions took their seats around the tables, next to the Winterfell people.

Princess Myrcella took the honour seat, with the Master of Coin next to her, and the Lord and Lady of Winterfell on the other side of the Princess. His betrothed was a few seats away from her family, and she was in the middle of a conversation with Sansa when the first course was brought in.

She talked happily with his sister about Casterly Rock, and Arya intervened with questions, when the talk turned to jumping out of cliffs.

“Have you jumped off the cliffs, Joy?”

“Arya!!” Sansa warned her sister. “You can’t call people by their first name…”

“No, please do. I don’t have any titles, my lady, it wouldn’t be truthful to be called the same way as you.”

“You can call me Arya too. But have you jumped?”

“No, I haven’t, my lady. I know my cousin Jaime used to do that, and so did my father by what my aunt tells me. And I’ve seen some boys doing it.”

“No girls?” Arya asked. “I would jump,” she said with complete certainty, and Jon didn’t doubt her.

“Mother wouldn’t let you,” Sansa answered.

“You wouldn’t tell her would you, Joy?” she asked

“Don’t make stupid questions, Arya. She should tell – it’s dangerous,” Sansa told her.

“It’s not. You’re just too scared.”

“Yes, and I would have a reason to.”

“Girls!!” Lady Catelyn from her seat, and both his sisters stopped fighting, at least loudly, he still noticed Arya kicking Sansa.

Jon kept himself from laughing, and kept listening to them speaking to each other, with Sansa and Arya interrogating Joy, even if she tried to divert the attention to his sisters – it never worked.

* * *

Jon was once again training with Robb, while he tried to get some answers out of him about Joy, but the truth was that they hadn’t spent much time together. Joy was with his sisters and her cousin most of the day, they only met during meals, but even then she was overwhelmed by his sisters; but she always took a bit of time to talk to him.

Jon was at least calling her by her first name now, and he had found out a bit about her childhood, and Casterly Rock. Her family didn’t seem to welcome her as much as his did, and she found really hard not ever knowing if her father was dead or just missing. He found out that she dreamed of going to Essos to look for him, and only last night Jon dreamed that he had been able to take her on that trip (the dream had turned sour, when she found her father, and he didn’t think he was good enough for her).

But these were things he didn’t wish to share with Robb, these were things she told him in privacy; so he tried to look for excuses, when Lady Catelyn appeared on the courtyard, calling for him.

“Jon, we would like to talk with you in the solar,” Lady Catelyn told him, and he followed her, through the castle. “We’re having a meeting about your marriage, to make a few decisions. Intervene only if you really need, your father does have your best interest in mind.”

“Of course, Lady Catelyn.” He kept following her, and he knew they were closer to the solar. When they finally arrived, Jon held the door opened for her, before entering after her.

He noticed that Joy was there too, sitting next to her uncle at the table. Lady Catelyn took a seat next to her husband, and Jon took the only other free chair, closer to the door then the table. Lady Catelyn was the first to speak, turning to Joy.

“Girl, I hope you’re not too bothered for being called here. We just thought you would like to be here for this conversation.”

“I do. Thank you, my lord, my lady, for letting me be present.”

“So can we start?” his father asked, and everyone consented.

“If you feel uncomfortable answering this question in here, we can go outside,” Lady Catelyn said turning to the girl. “Have you flowered?”

“No, I haven’t, my lady,” she answered immediately. “I know my uncle will want to marry me the moment I get my first blood.”

“And you probably don’t want that,” Lady Catelyn continued. “Probably the latest date would be two years from now. I would like to give you more time.”

“How?” Lord Tyrion asked.

“We don’t know yet,” his father answered. “But we would deny and postpone the wedding until you would send a letter telling us you were ready.”

“I don’t know my father would accept your refusals too many times.”

“We would insist,” his father said.

“It’ll take a long time to have our home ready – that would be a good reason to postpone, wouldn’t it?” Jon suggested.

“Yes, I think my father would accept that,” Lord Tyrion answered.

“Okay, so we’ll do it this way. My girl, you’ll send a letter to us or to your betrothed when you’re ready.”

“Thank you,” she answered, and after that his father took the lead on the conversation.

“Lord Tyrion, I think we should discuss the proposals you made.”

“As promised, land will be given to them after their wedding, and the King will give them a new family name and sigil of their chosen.”

“So they get to choose their name and home.”

“Yes, nobody will insist in anything,” Lord Tyrion promised. “You two have time to decide. While you should have land before the wedding, the rest you can choose with time.”

“Thank you, my lord,” his father said, while his wife continued.

“My girl, know you’re welcome here any time you want; and I would advise you to share letters with your betrothed. While it may be a few years until you marry, it’s good for you two to get to know each other.”

“Thank you, my lady,” she answered. And soon after they were dismissed, while Lord and Lady Stark and Lord Tyrion continued inside.

“I’ll be leaving soon, Jon,” she told him. “But I would like to take Lady Stark’s advice and trade letters with you.”

“I would like that too, Joy. Would you like to go riding today?”

“Will you call Arya to chaperone?” she asked, she had taken a like to both his sisters. But when the two of them were together, she always asked for Arya to accompany them.

“I don’t think Arya will ever mind riding.”

“I’m glad. Even better that we are saving her from her septa,” she said, smiling and taking his arm; as they both walked to the room they knew Arya was, sewing. “The septa doesn’t like me.”

“She doesn’t like me either. But you’re a guest and she can’t do nothing about you.” And with that, they decided that she would knock and ask for Arya, Jon could hear her speak.

“Good afternoon,” she greeted first. “Jon and I are going for a ride in the Godswood. We were wondering if Lady Arya would like to chaperone.” After Joy asked that, she entered the room, and he couldn’t hear her anymore; but just a few moments after they both appeared.

“Thank you, Jon,” Arya said, hugging her brother. “Let’s go!!” she exclaimed, running ahead. While he walked a bit slower with her, he liked talking with her, even if she was much younger, she always told him interesting things about her home.

“How come your father’s wife is so nice to you?” she asked him, when they were already deep into the Goodswood, and Arya was ahead of them. Jon knew he couldn’t share the real reason, and while he wanted to tell her someday, that day wasn’t today.

“What do you mean?” he asked, pretending not to understand.

“I barely remember my father, and he was never married, but even myself were treated worst by some people. She talks to you with no malice in her voice. It’s just different from what I’m used to. My cousin, the Queen, would never let her husband keep his bastards in the castle.”

“I don’t know why. I never knew different,” he lied; it had been different before she has told of his true parentage. “I always knew I wasn’t her son, but I also knew I was part of the house.”

“That must be good,” she whispered absent minded, and Jon wondered again what had she been through. And before he could think of the appropriate thing to answer, Arya saved him.

“Have you shown Joy the hot springs? It’s actually hot, Joy – it’s one of my mother’s favorite places, it’s the warmer place you can get in the North.”

“No, he wasn’t, Arya. Would you like to lead me?” she asked, stepping forward and riding next to Arya,

They held themselves quite differently in the horse, Arya always seemed to be part horse herself; Joy was not as comfortable, she kept her horse to a slow pace, even if she wasn’t sitting sideways. Arya kept insisting for her to go faster, but she wouldn’t, and looked back at Jon, asking for his help.

“Arya… let Joy ride at her own pace.”

“Jon… okay… so keep her company. I’m going ahead. Don’t take too long, brother.”

“We won’t, Arya.”

They both rode in silent, and soon enough they arrived to find Arya already with her skirts and breeches pulled up, and had her feet and legs in the water. Jon was all forward to joining her there; he wouldn’t just jump into the water in his smallclothes because of Joy’s company, so he settled into just taking off his boots and pulling his breeches up, and joined Arya. Joy decided to only sit next to them and only putting her hands in the water.

Arya started telling her about all the things they could do together when she married Jon and moved to Winterfell.

“I don’t think we’ll live in Winterfell,” Joy said, and Jon wished he had been able to stop her – he wanted to be the one to tell her.

“What?! You’re leaving, Jon, but I thought you getting married would mean you would stay,” she said, standing up and running away barefoot.

“Should we follow her?”

“She needs some time. She always does this when something she doesn’t like happens,” Jon told her. “And she’ll need to come back after all,” he said, pointing to her boots.

“I’m sorry I told her. I didn’t mean to create any problems between you two.”

“I should have spoken to her, but I’ve been postponing it for awhile now. It’s not your fault.”

“Where are you thinking about setting our house?” she asked, without looking him in the eyes, playing with the grass around the hot springs. Jon had plans, but he wasn’t sure how to share it with her – she probably wouldn’t like that idea too much. But he wouldn’t need to answer, when he started hearing Arya around them on the bushes, and Joy flinched a bit.

“It’s just Arya, she probably realized she forgot her boots. We better leave,” he said, helping her up and taking her to their horses, and rode back to the castle.

Myrcella waited for her in the yard, talking with Sansa, who immediately asked:

“Where’s Arya? She should be chaperoning you? It’s not proper to be left alone.”

“Lady Sansa, I promise you your brother is a true knight. I fear I said something that drove Lady Arya away.”

“There are no knights in the North,” Arya said, riding into the year as well. “Unless you want to betray the North too, southern,” she yelled again, before disappearing.

“I’ll go get the horses to the stables,” Jon said taking both his and Joy’s horse. “And see if I can catch Arya.”

* * *

Jon didn’t have any more time to go riding with Joy before she left, since they received a letter from King’s Landing only a few days later, requesting Princess Myrcella to go back to the capital, since she had been promised to the youngest Martell Prince, and she needed to see her family for the last time, before being sent to Dorne.

They said goodbye, knowing that they would only see each other again when they were supposed to be married, and joined forever. She promised to send him a letter when she arrived to Casterly Rock, and he promised he would answer – with that started a long trail of letters for years to come.


	2. Part II - Joy Hill

Joy sat on her bed and looked over her room for the last time. Everything that was hers was packed in a chest near the door; while she was excited to leave this room and this castle, where she had always felt like an outsider, but she knew she would miss this world – the sun, the cliffs and the water.

She looked down at the letters in her hand; all sent from the North – either Winterfell or Castle Black – and imagined the future they could have. Her future was pretty much decided now, she knew where they would live, Jon had sent her multiple letters, telling her of the small castle he built for them in the Gift. But she couldn’t help but fear how she would get used to the place and the people, she would be sharing the place with the Wildlings – Jon was the one helping them establish South of the Wall, and make an army to fight something he called White Walkers, she still wasn’t sure they were true – her uncle Tywin certainly didn’t believe the stories.

“Joy, can I come in?” she heard the knock, and her cousin’s voice.

“Yes, of course.”

“Everything is ready,” Myrcella told her. “Arys and Obara are outside, they said they can carry your trunk. Are you ready?”

“Yes, I think so,” she said, standing up to put her letters in the chest.

“Obara and Arys, can you help?” she called outside; they entered, and Joy immediately thanked them, and asked if they would need her help too, to which they answered that they wouldn’t need it.

Joy walked next to Myrcella through the halls of Casterly Rock probably for the last time, since she wouldn’t be welcomed back. Some of the servants on the way bended their heads, but she supposed it was more for Myrcella’s benefit than her own.

In the yard, there were some Lannister soldiers, ready to join them on their journey now. And then there were some Martell soldiers, not many, but enough to protect and accompany Myrcella, her betrothed and cousin, Rosamund, with them came two of the Sand Snakes – Obara and Nymeria – who were leading the Martell guard.

Joy went back to help Obara and Arys put her enormous trunk on the carriage with their other bags and trunks, before joining Rosamund and Myrcella on their carriage.

“By the Gods, you three could be twins,” Prince Trystane said, looking at them, before walking away to his horse; and Myrcella only smiled at him.

“You know he’s right, don’t you?!” Myrcella commented, when they were alone in the carriage.

Joy knew it was true; they all had the Lannister look, golden hair and green eyes. But they also had their differences, Myrcella had curls unlike them, both of them with straight hair; the shape of Joy’s eyes were also more rounded and her skin with more freckles and fairer, while both Myrcella and Rosamund, probably because of Dorne, they had a small tan. Joy was also the tallest of the three, but she still felt small next to Myrcella, who held herself high.

Joy listened to the other things Rosamund kept pointing out that were different between them, and she couldn’t help but agree. Joy liked Rosamund, she had met her very few times before, being related to Myrcella on her grandmother side, and not on the side they shared family.

“What do you think, Joy?” Rosamund asked.

“Ohhh… sorry… what did you ask?”

“I was talking about hair. Yours? It’s longer than I remember you keeping it.”

“It is. The North is cold, longer hair will keep me warmer,” Joy answered. It had actually been an advice from Jon’s sister; she had added to one of Jon’s letters, promising to show her some useful hair styles.

“Smart idea. I always keep my hair up and shorter in Dorne,” Rosamund answered; and she and Myrcella started talking about Dorne again, Joy listened for awhile before falling asleep in the comfort of the pillowed carriage.

* * *

Today was the day, they would arrive in Winterfell, Joy was dressed in her best dress, and warmer than the ones she was used to; her hair had been styled by Myrcella, after a heated argument with Nymeria and Rosamund about deciding on a hair style.

Everyone was using warmer clothes too, since they reached the North, she could notice that the Dornish seem to do nothing by complain of the cold, some of the guards had even turned back. She was a bit exhausted of these people asking her how she would be able to live here – she perfectly knew it wasn’t easy, but she knew she would get used to it. When she was first in Winterfell, Lady Stark had told her that it would become easier to adjust to the Northern climate, and she believed her. Her cousin Tyrion always helped avoid those questions about the North.

“How are you feeling, Joy? You seem a bit pale,” Nymeria asked. After a moon travelling with them, she rather liked the two Sand Snakes, just like her they were bastards and unlike her seem to have had a much better childhood than her.

“Just nervous.”

“That your betrothed isn’t handsome,” she asked smiling.

“No, I know he’s handsome,” she told her blushing. She had been young when she first saw him, but she could acknowledge how handsome he was, even if certain feelings only came later in life. “We’ll be married tomorrow afternoon. I’ll see him today and then we’ll be married,” she told them. It could be worst after all, her moon blood had arrived when she was twelve and the maids took no time to tell her uncle; she didn’t know how the Starks had held the marriage off for three entire years, but at fifteen she knew she was at a good age to marry.

She thought of what her marriage would be, she liked him enough to hope for a happy marriage. She had never seen a successful marriage up-close; she lived in Casterly Rock with Lord Lannister, and her uncle had lost his wife a long time ago; she sometimes visited her aunt Genna, but you wouldn’t call that a happy marriage. But Jon had seen a happy marriage, and good parents to their children – even if Lady Stark wasn’t his mother and had never treated him as such, she could see by his letters that he had a great amount of respect for her, and would take not just his father but his wife as well for examples on how to raise their children.

Before she knew it, the rest of the journey was over, her mind crowded with thoughts took her from appreciating the view of the North, but she knew she would have long years to see it.

They could finally see the castle and the walls, and soon after, Joy was actually there, they entered through one of Winterfell’s gates, and the carriage stopped. She knew the rules – Myrcella, Tyrion and Prince Trystane would need to be introduced first, maybe even Rosamund. She walked out of the carriage, following her cousins, and stood next to it, searching for Jon in the crowd – it wasn’t easy with everyone kneeling, or almost everyone – four people stood.

She finally found him, when Myrcella gave everyone the ease to stand. This time, Jon didn't stand in line with his family, but still near, where she supposed the other Northern Lords stood. Finding him, she couldn't help but notice the changes in him; he was taller, and broader – not that much, he was still slender and not even as broad as Obara; he had beard too, making him look older, but at least it wasn’t as long as the ones in the men standing next to him; and he was dressed all in black.

Before she knew it, he was walking in her direction; she could feel his eyes roam her body, and she hoped he wasn’t disappointed.

“I welcome you to Winterfell, Joy. I hope you had a pleasing journey.”

“I did, Jon. It's a pleasure to be here again.” She took his arm, and surprisingly he didn't lead her to his family, but to the people who had been standing next to him, who she now recognized as three of four people who didn’t kneel.

She could recognize them from his descriptions, but she waited for him to present them – they were his people after all ( _someday yours too_ , a voice said in her head).

“Maybe you will remember them from my letters, these are of the people living near our castle.” She noticed how she didn’t call them his people, he knew most of them were wildlings ( _free folk_ , she reminded herself, _they preferred that term_ ) and they wouldn’t like to be diminished to belonging to him. “This is Gendry, he’s my right hand man – our castle and lands wouldn’t be ready now if it wasn’t for him.”

“Not your lands,” a woman, all in white, whispered.

“Our castle and the lands near it wouldn’t be ready if it wasn’t for Gendry,” he corrected himself.

“Thank you, m’lord,” he said, before taking Joy’s hand, blushing, and kissing it. “A pleasure to meet you, m’lady.”

“I’m not a lady…”

“Don’t bother tell him. He won’t listen to you,” she heard Arya yell, coming closer, before someone stopped her, looking through the corner to her eye, it seemed like Lord Robb.

“He doesn’t call me my lord anymore,” Jon whispered to her. “He will get used to it about you as well. He just gets back to old habits here in Winterfell.” Joy noticed that Gendry had blushed even more.

“I won’t call you milady,” the woman next to him said. “That’s for southerners.”

“She’s Ygritte,” Jon said, but Joy immediately knew. She had featured in too many of his letters, she had been jealous of her so many times, thinking that she could be more to him than a sister-in-arms. “She has protected my life more times than I can count.”

“Yes, I did. Your husband knows nothing,” she told her. “But he doesn’t shut up his mouth about you.”

“Thanks for protecting his life. Thank you,” she said. With that Jon moved to the next person, it was the woman in white. She wondered if she should be jealous of this woman instead, she couldn’t remember who she was from the letters, but she was beautiful, more beautiful than Ygritte – under furs, with red and bushy hear, pug nose and crooked white teeth – while this woman has long beautiful blond hair, and clear grey eyes and even with furs her curves were still obvious.

“This is Princess Val, sister to the King Beyond the Wall’s wife.”

“Your Grace,” Joy said bowing to her.

“Val, to you. If I can call you Joy.”

“You can.” And then they moved to the last person.

“Tormund. Another man that fights with me.”

“The North is a cold place. If you ever need to warm up,” he told her, and she blushed immediately, understanding what he was saying. Jon pulled her way immediately, throwing him a look.

“Do you remember my family?” he asked leading him to them. They had now dispersed through the yard. Jon took her to Arya immediately, who was now hanging out with Gendry.

“Joy, how are you?” Arya said, hugging her immediately. “You’re taking my favorite brother tomorrow; just warning I may take your second man,” she said smiling. “Ohhh... and mother may let me go spend a few days with you, if you’re living there now, Joy. You wouldn’t mind, would you?”

“Of course not. But maybe I should get used to the place before you come.”

“But I can someday, right? I won’t bother you much, Ygritte promised she would help me train.”

“If your parents don’t mind, you can stay.” Arya smiled before running away in direction of the Lord and Lady Stark, coming back only seconds after to push Gendry along. Joy stayed quiet for a bit, looking at Gendry since he seemed quite familiar, but also noticing the way he looked at Arya.

“You haven’t met my brother’s wife,” Jon reminded her, taking her hand and looking for his brother. Jon had spoken about her in the letters, he told her she was fighter like most of her family.

“Robb, you remember Joy, right?” he said coming closer.

“Of course. Still beautiful I see,” he said smiling to her. “This is my wife, Lady Lyra.”

“Lady Lyra, it’s an honour to meet you. You come from the BearIsland, right?”

“I do. Beautiful island, maybe you could visit someday.”

“Maybe…”

“I’m sure you want to get used to your home first. You’ll have years to visit.”

“Thank you for your kindness.”

“I’m sorry, but my lady, it seems the Princess is calling for you,” Robb told her.

“It does seem like that. I think it’s time for us to go freshen up before the feast. I’ll see you there, Jon,” she said smiling to her betrothed, she wanted to spend the largest amount of time with him before having to retire herself tonight, to only see him again the moment they wed. “Lord Robb, Lady Lyra,” she said curtsying to them, before following her cousin.

Joy was sure they were taken to the same rooms as the last time, and Myrcella didn’t waste any time to ask for basin filled with water, and which of the lady took their time refreshing them with the water. Some, like Rosamund and Nymeria took the time to change their dresses, but she stayed with the same, she liked it and she thought Jon had liked it too.

So Joy waited for them to get ready, she sat on the edge of the window, and looked down – there wasn’t nothing special under. She noticed some pieces of grass were white, and it had snowed for sure – she knew it happened a lot here, but she hoped it didn’t happen tomorrow.

“Can we go down now?” Obara asked from the door. “It’s already dark.” Her sister, Nymeria took another look at herself in the looking glass and then to the other ladies in the room, before agreeing and stepping out of the room. They walked together to the Great Hall, but the moment they arrived they were escorted by someone to their places.

Joy noticed that this time Jon was leading her to a place not that high in the table, since there were more people to sit. She thought for a few moments that he would take her to sit with his men and women, but he didn’t – she sat once again next to Arya, who immediately took her attention.

Joy tried to divide her attention between Arya and Jon during the various courses of food – she noticed the food wasn’t as luxurious and abundant as the one in Casterly Rock.

“Winter is coming,” Jon told her, as he had read her mind. “We have to be careful with portions.”

“Ohhh…”

“I really hope I can always put food on our table.”

“I’m sure you will, I trust you, Jon.” But they had very few other private conversations while they ate, Joy could perfectly see Jon and Arya wanted to enjoy there last moments together, before he moved away again, and this time with a family of his own. But when the meal ended and the dancing started, things were easier; Arya disappeared immediately, not to dance but to join Gendry at his table.

She talked quietly with Jon, mostly about tomorrow and how it would go. As promised the ceremony would start in the Sept, and since it was small and most people didn’t follow the Seven, there wouldn’t be many people; and then they would walk to the Godswood to exchange cloaks, where all the Northern Lords waited to see the union. But then Jon surprised her by asking her something.

“Would you mind walking with me?”

“I can ask Nymeria to chaperone if you want; she doesn’t seem to be doing anything right now.”

“Now, I need to talk to you alone.”

“We shouldn’t be left alone.”

“It’s important. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t.”

“Okay, but we can’t take long,” she protested, as she stood and they discretely left the Hall. He lead her through the yard to the crypts, and she couldn’t help but be scared, wondering what he would do to her – he was a man after all.

“What I’m about to tell you is important. Only other three people in the world know this,” he told her after walking silently through a long part of the crypts. “And you may want to end this betrothal after this; if you do, I’ll allow you.”

They sat down and he started. She thought that he was going to tell her he had been with Ygritte or Princess Val – she didn’t mind, she understood his needs as a man; if he promised to not do it again, she had nothing against. And even if she thought that she didn’t fear that he would tell her of a bastard child, she knew him well enough to know that he would be careful if he lay with someone to not have any (but either way she would treat the child right).

“Are you listening, Joy?” She nodded to his question. “So please promise you won’t tell anyone, especially your family, not even your cousin.”

“I do, Jon.”

“Okay. So remember what we talked about our parents…”

“We did that a lot…”

“And I lied, Joy. I do know who my mother was--”

“Was? So you’re sure that she’s de--”

“Dead? Yes, but that’s not what I need to tell you. I also found out who my father was.”

“Your father?! But Lord Stark…”

“He’s my uncle.” Joy had studied the Stark family line, Benjen was probably too young, so it was between Brandon and Lyanna. “On my mother’s side.”

“Ohhh… Lyanna Stark. Ohhh… your father is Rhaegar…”

“Rhaegar Targaryen. Yes. My father – I mean my uncle – took me in after promising my mother than he would protect me. Pretending to be my father was the only way to protect the truth.”

“You could be King, Jon. You shouldn’t marry me – you can’t rise to the throne with a bastard, and I won’t support you,” she said honestly. “The current people in the throne are my family.”

“I do not want to be King. You know me enough to know that, I hope. But I understand if you want to leave me. I want stop you, I just ask you don’t tell your family.”

“You promise you won’t change your mind, and want to be King someday.”

“I promise. I belong in the North, and I need to protect it from the danger to come.”

“So I promise to stand by your side, and keep your secret,” she said, standing and holding his face, looking him straight in the eyes. And then she lowered her head, and took her lips to his – it was the first kiss they shared, before she had only kissed a boy who once came with a visiting family from the Westerlands. Jon took the lead immediately, and held her head, threading his hand through her golden hair, and then opened his mouth, while it was probably what he planned to do, she beat him to it, moving her tongue forward. She didn’t know how long it lasted, but when they stopped she was sitting on his knees and for sure blushing, and Jon looked sheepishly to the ground.

“My dragon…” she whispered in his ear, jokingly.

“I’m still a wolf,” he told her, before asking. “I’m sure you have questions about what I told you.”

“I also have a lifetime to make them. You answered the most important already,” she smiled taking his hand. “We should go up again, before anyone comes looking.” They walked hand in hand through the crypts, only separating from each other when they were out.

Entering in the Great Hall, they went on their different paths; Jon sat back at the table, while she went to dance with Myrcella and Sansa. Some lords come to ask for her hand, she danced a few times with her cousin, Tyrion, and then other northerns who introduced themselves; but Jon still hadn’t asked.

“You should ask him,” Sansa told her. “He doesn’t dance much, but if you ask he’ll probably give you at least one dance.”

“Thank you.” Joy walked up to the table, where he was now talking with Gendry.

“My lady,” Gendry said, noticing her coming closer; Jon turned and smiled at her.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“You’re not,” Gendry answered. “I should go looking for Arya actually. I promised her that I would try to at least save her from a few dances.”

“I wanted to know if you would dance with me, Jon.” With that he stood up and took her hand, leading her to the other couples dancing.

He wasn’t a very good dancer, always looking down, but at least he didn’t step on her toes.

“You’re not that bad, Jon. Try looking me in the eyes.” He did and things were a bit more complicated then, now he did step on her toes, and as he apologized, she laughed.

“I see you’re having fun,” Lord Robb said stepping closer to them. “I wanted to know if you would allow me a dance with your bride, brother.” Jon shared a look with her, before guiding her hand to his brother’s – _or cousin’s…_

Lord Robb was a much better dancer than Jon, they danced through the Hall, until she made sure they would stop near Myrcella, and he could take the princess hand.

And she took Prince Trystane’s hand now, and danced the night away (knowing that tomorrow she would retire earlier).

* * *

Joy had been confined to her room the entire morning; she had even taken her mid-day meal in her room. She was now being put on her dress, it had the Lannister colours but reversed – a golden dress with seams in crimson. Myrcella was just finishing tying the dress on her back when Lady Sansa entered.

“Things are getting ready outside,” she told them. “And you look beautiful, Joy. And I told Arya to get a flower for your hair.” They had been discussing what to do with her hair the last time Sansa had come into the room, especially since it was still wet from the bath she took that morning. “I think we should keep it down.”

“Maybe a small braid at the front,” Nymeria suggested.

“Yes,” I’ll do it Princess Val volunteered.

Myrcella shooed her to a chair in front the looking glass, and they started to work. Myrcella and Sansa brushed her hair, and then Princess Val stepped in to do a very small braid in the left side. Arya entered the room running, just a few seconds later, giving Sansa a blue rose.

“It’s blue, Arya. Winter roses don’t go well with Joy’s complexion. Get me a poppy, or do you need me to go there?”

“No, I know. But you could have said that before,” she argued before running away again, leaving the blue rose on the table.

“She will be back in a few moments,” Sansa reassured. “Why don’t you put your shoes on?”

Sansa was lending her some boots, since it had snowed during the night, and while Joy had some boots but they weren’t very elegant. And Sansa had brought more boots for the ladies as well – they all looked elegant, ready for the wedding.

Arya ran in to give the poppy and then ran away again, picking up the blue rose.

And now all she could do was wait for the occasion where her cousin would knock and led her to the sept.

“Are you nervous?” Myrcella asked her.

“I am, but not as much as I thought I would be.”

“You don’t need to be nervous,” Sansa told her. “Jon will treat you right.” But Joy already knew that, she trusted her husband to be. “I think we can start walking to the sept. Lord Tyrion will be waiting for you there.”

So they all left the room, walking to the sept, only PrincessVal separating to go to the Godswood, since she won’t need to go to the sept – only the Stark family, Joy’s guest and Gendry, of Jon’s men, would be there. And then they left her with Tyrion, waiting out of sight. While she couldn’t take his arm properly, she rested her hand of his shoulder.

“Are you ready, Joy? Septon just gave me the sign.”

“As ready I’ll ever be,” she said, and their walk started. The sept was as she remembered from her stay here when she was eleven, it was much smaller than the ones she usually found in the South, but it still had his beauty – beautiful carved statues but without any colouring, and beautiful stained glass, with the light still coming in, it left the room in a tone of red and blue.

Jon didn’t turn when she entered; as she had passed the Martells and then her family, and on the other side the Starks, he stayed as he was; turning only as the Septon asked.

“Who gives this lady away?”

“I do. Lord Tyrion Lannister of Casterly Rock.”

“Who takes this lady?”

“I do. Jon Snow,” and with that being said, he took her hand from Tyrion’s. Jon looked handsome, he had trimmed his beard and hair, he was once again dressed in back but a blue rose decorated his tunic – she wouldn’t be surprise if it was the one Arya had brought for her.

The Septon didn’t say much before he started the ceremony – it was shorter than she expected, but she supposed it was something of the North, he probably had never preformed any ceremonies here – she knew Lord Robb and Lady Lyra had only married under the Heart Tree.

“In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon one another and say the words,” the Septon told them, but she knew that only she would say the words. There was no sense in Jon saying them if he didn’t believe in the Gods.

“Father. Smith. Warrior. Mother. Maiden. Crone. Stranger. I am his, and he is mine, from this day, until the end of my days,” she repeated after the Septon. Normally it would follow with a kiss and the exchange of clothes. But instead, they turned and he took her hand, as they walked to the Godswood, to the Heart Tree. Their families followed them, along with the Martells; as they walked closer to the Godswood, people yelled and clapped, but when they were finally there, it was complete silence – there wasn’t a sound in the Godswood.

Jon led her to the tree, and kneeled, and she followed his lead. He closed his eyes, and she supposed he was praying, and she noticed other men and women praying as well. But then he turned to her and helped her up; he reached for her cloak and took it out, giving it to Tyrion, and putting his own light grey cloak over her back. And only then he kissed her, much more tentative than their kiss the previous night.

And now they were married.

The Godswood wasn’t as silent anymore; people were clapping and yelling, congratulating them along the way. Jon’s family took him away, and then so did _his_ people; while she walked with Myrcella and Rosamund.

“Why the grey cloak?” Rosamund asked.

“We haven’t chosen a sigil or house name. So we thought this would be a good option – we can then fill it later when we decide.”

“Ohhh… so you don’t know what your name is?”

“I don’t. We wanted to decide together.”

“Tell me when you know,” Myrcella told her. “Ohhh… and where should I send letters to?”

“I don’t think our small castle has ravens, but Jon usually sends them either from here or Castle Black – so I think any of those places would be okay. But I can ask Jon… my husband,” she tested the word. She liked how it sounded.

It was still early, but everyone was led to the Great Hall, for the festivities to start. She hadn’t expected that much on the account this was a wedding for bastards after all, but there were singers (that she was sure that had come with her party and were not from the North).

So most people danced until it was time for the night meal, she noticed that just like Jon, Lord Stark didn’t dance much – he must have danced once with his wife, and another with his oldest daughter, but he didn’t seem to mind having his wife dancing with other men. Jon didn’t seem to mind either, so she did as Lady Stark, she would dance with the men who asked her, and then she would excuse herself and go sit next to Jon.

This time they were higher on the table, very close to the Lord and Lady Stark and to Myrcella. Joy thought she had never sat this high on a table.

“You don’t need to keep coming down, Joy,” Jon told her as she sat back down. “I don’t mind you dancing. I like seeing you,” he told her, and she noticed Lord Stark trying to pretend he wasn’t listening.

“I like talking to you, Jon. And it’s our wedding day after all.”

“Did you like the ceremony? It wasn’t too confusing with having to walk to the Godswood.”

“No, of course not. All our Gods are important,” she told him, taking his hand under the table. “Lord Stark,” she called to Jon’s father, who turned to them. “Was your wedding ceremony with Lady Stark similar to ours?”

“No, I’m afraid not. We only married under the Seven. While Riverrun does have a Heart Tree, under the climate of war, and with Lord Arryn’s wedding to my wife’s sister – Lady Lysa Arryn – both followers of the Seven – there was never a chance.”

“Ohhh…” she wasn’t sure what she should say, Jon had always spoken of how his father – _uncle_ , she remembered – often found himself in the Godswood.

“It isn’t the wedding that makes the marriage,” he told her. “Ours turned out quite well. I’m sure yours will too, I fully trust my son.”

“Thank you, father,” Jon told him, and Joy was still a bit confused how easily they lied about their parentage relation. Lord Stark must have read something on her face, because he shared a look with Jon that made him answer.

“I spoke with her last night.”

“You can’t…” Lord Stark started turning to her.

“She won’t, father,” he told his father, before asking her for a dance. The dance was much like the one from when the feast started or from the previous night, and by now they had learned that it was probably best for him to look down.

He actually danced two more dances with her before taking her to Gendry, and taking Arya for himself, just a few steps since neither of the siblings ( _cousins_ ) seemed to like dancing that much. Gendry wasn’t a much better dancer either, looking at the floor, and besides he wouldn’t hold her properly, afraid of trespassing some boundary.

Soon enough after that dance, they sat down to eat. The meal was still rationed obviously, but there was a bit more abundance today, and she noticed some of her favorite desserts – some she was sure were hard to get here in the North. When she thanked Jon, he honestly told her that it had been Sansa’s idea, and that most of decorations were due to her too.

When the dinner was finished it was time for more dancing; but this time she didn’t have time for many, she started with Jon, opening the dance floor, and then danced with a few others before sitting down, and she was honoured a dance with Lord Stark before the bedding was called.

Joy had just sat down when the call was made. Men were yelling and knocking their mugs of ale on the tables. Lord Stark shared a look with Jon, who consented, and in a blink of an eye, women took Jon and men took her.

She could smell the ale on those men that came closer to her, taking her from the table and pulling on her clothes. Some men made comments about her status as a bastard, and others squeezed her body, mostly her ass.

Looking over the men, she could see Jon surrounded by women. Ygritte and Princess Val laughed pulling on his tunic, while Nymeria got his pants obviously squeezing his ass and other parts as well and then there were other women, she didn’t know, pulling on other parts of him.

Before she knew it, her cloak was one the floor, with her dress ripped and her shift already showing. That was when she felt a strong pair of arms around her.

“Stealing all the fun, Young Wolf,” some men yelled, and she was thrown over someone's shoulder. Knowing the nickname and recognising the red curls, she knew it was Jon's brother ( _cousin_ ).

“Leave her alone, she's my brother's, you pigs,” he yelled behind them; the men still followed all howling and yelling, stumping their feet, clapping and knocking on the walls. “I hope they didn't scare you, Joy.”

“I should be expecting that, Lord Robb.”

“My brother will be much better than these pigs, I promise,” he promised her. “We are close now.” She was surprised they didn't run into the women and Jon during the trip to their room – after all, they started and should end in the same place.

Lord Robb arrived to a room she had never seen; he put her down while she tried to cover herself with her ruined dress, and opened the door. The room was still empty, so Lord Robb remembered her that Jon would probably be in soon.

Alone in the room, she took of her dress, knowing it wasn't doing anything anymore and laid it down on a chair; and only on her shift she sat on the bed. She could still hear the yells outside, and again the stomps on the floor and walls; and then she heard them call Jon’s name. The door opened and he was shoved in – they were alone in the room, but the voices were still present – “BEDDING!! BEDDING!!”

Unlike her, they left Jon completely naked, he covered himself only with his hands, and he looked down.

“Robb didn’t take too long to get to you, did he? I asked him to intervene if he thought it was necessary.” He did take longer than she would like but she did not tell him that. “Are you okay? Were any of the men too brute with you? I can talk to them.” But she still didn’t answer. “So do you want something to drink? It will help with the nerves.” She nodded. And Jon turned to the pitcher and cups ready at the table, and she couldn’t help but have a look at his back and ass.

“We’re not hearing any screaming yet,” someone yelled from outside. Jon seemed to ignore the yelling all together, but to her the voices still rang on her ears.

She noticed Jon juggling to try to hold both cups and still cover himself, but he decide to quit the idea, and took a cup once at a time. When he came with his, he pulled the covers back, so he could get under them.

“How are you feeling, Joy?” she didn’t answer, and instead took a bit gulp of the wine. “You need to ignore the sounds outside.”

“It’s just nerve wracking knowing that they will be there, while we’re here doing… doing that,” she said blushing again, and drinking the rest of her wine, and taking the rest of Jon’s as he offered.

“Come here,” he said, opening his arms. “You can come under the covers when you feel ready, just know that the longest you take the longer they will wait.” Joy knew it was true, if they did it, they would then be left alone, and that was what wanted. She didn’t fear Jon, just the act itself and she knew he would help her through it.

“Kiss me, Jon. And take the voices away,” she asked, and he did. While the kisses weren’t enough to pan all the voices away, when the touching started she couldn’t really hear anything else.

* * *

After their wedding night, and the whispers through the castle; they only stayed in Winterfell for less than a sennight. Jon was monopolized by Arya a lot of the time, Jon had said on letters than she was always like this when he was about to go to his new home again.

The Northern Lords started leaving as well day by day, fearing the start of a new snowstorm – they all said they had gotten a very good winter days, even if Joy was still freezing. Only the Mormonts stayed, to spend more time with their daughter and sister – Lyra – but also they seemed to spend a lot of their time in the yard fighting the Sand Snakes. Those battles could go either way, but people were always there to see, and normally to root for the Mormont women, and while Prince Trystane and Myrcella rooted even louder for the Sand Snakes.

But Joy liked the nights even better, it was just her and Jon and they got to learn about each other better. They would play what you could call childhood games, asking silly questions, they never asked before because they didn’t want to waste parchment; and then they would play more adult games as well, getting to know each other bodies as well as their minds.

Joy took her free time to get to know Gendry, Ygritte, Princess Val, and even talk with Tormund a few times. They gave her a different image of the Gift than Jon did, but it didn’t make her want to go any less. They all described their life there as a community, most activities were done together – Gendry told her it was his favorite part, because it gave him a family (Joy thought she would like that too).

Luckily they departed soon, on the same day Myrcella, Tyrion, Rosamund and the Martells were going back to Dorne, stopping in King’s Landing if possible, at least to drop off the Master of Coin; Joy said goodbye to her cousins, not knowing if she would ever see Myrcella or Tyrion again. Jon’s goodbye to his family was different, promising to see them soon.

This time Joy got to ride, and while she still wore a dress, she had breeches under it, so she could pull her skirts up. Her trunk went on a wooden wagon, being pushed by Gendry and Jon’s horses. The ride was long and they had to stop for a few nights.

As they went North, Joy realized she would need even warmer clothes – she would ask Ygritte for fur, she had promised her that she could take her hunting and even maybe learn to fight a bit – Joy liked the idea, she didn’t want to be a fighter like the Sand Snakes, or the Mormont women, or Ygritte or even Arya, but she didn’t mind learning a bit.

And then they arrived, it was a small place, covered in snow, the houses and tents dispersed by a few miles, there were people at the door of the houses and tents, people fighting and women skinning animals (Joy turned her eyes away from the blood).

“I can take the horses,” Gendry said as she and Jon dismounted their horses. “Show her the castle, Jon,” he whispered.

“Would you like to take Gendry’s advice?” he asked her, and she only smiled, taking his arm.

It wasn’t a big castle, but it stood out next to everything else; and she wanted to see it. Only she and Jon entered the doors, pushing them open, it gave out to an enormous Hall, that didn’t seem to be used for awhile.

They walked through it, the tables all around a round fireplace, and then she noticed to other fireplaces, in each side of the room.

“I put fireplaces in every room. I thought it would be a good idea.”

“This one has three.”

“Two fireplaces,” he said, taking her to the middle one, that she had considered the third. “This is where we prepare out food, he will cook it, and then I usually cut and distribute. We eat all together, but if you don’t…”

“No, I don’t mind, Jon – it’s been your way and I can learn it,” she told him, before asking. “So we don’t have a kitchen?”

“We do; through there,” he said, pointing to a door close by. “But no cooks at the moment, but if you want I can call for one. He’s name is Hot Pie, he’s a friend of Gendry and he will live here. But since we didn’t need him, he’s working at the Castle Black kitchen.”

“You don’t need to call him. Just maybe for some occasions.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “Just tell me when we need him.” With that, he took her arm and led her through the third door in the Hall.

There weren't many more rooms in the lower floor. Jon told her they could add more if it was ever needed, or the generations to come after them would do it.

But in that floor, he still showed her his solar, there were many papers in the table and she couldn't help herself and picked up a map – she couldn't recognize the place and she noticed it wasn't finished.

“It's what is Beyond the Wall. I've been trying to talk with the many tribes that lived there, to complete the map they had in Castle Black.”

“Ohhh... how far have you gone?” she asked, and Jon came to stand behind her, picking up her finger.

“We're were,” he told her first, letting her finger hover over the parchment, and then lead it through the map, stopping still away from the place where the drawing ended. “I know we haven't talked much about this, but we need. This is a dangerous place, Joy. I know you told me you didn't mind. But...”

“We'll be okay. I told you, Ygritte is going to teach me essential defence methods. She also said she was going to take me hunting.”

“South of the Wall, I hope. And I need to see your training before you go.”

“Of course, Jon. And I'm sure she wouldn't take me unprepared – you trust her, don’t you?”

“You know you're not obligated to take on this activities.”

“You're saying that because I'm southern; if I was from the North, you wouldn't say that,” she commented.

“I would if she was a lady as well.”

“I'm a bastard, Jon,” she stated the obvious.

“A highborn bastard. You didn't have to do this. I know because I didn't do this either.”

“Stop. I'll do it. I want them to respect me as they do you. And what they believe is equality – no bending your knee. I can do that. I'll help with what they need.”

“If you're sure,” he told her, not sounding convinced. “I'll show you the rest of our home, before I show you other of these documents.” She took his arm again, and this time he led her upstairs.

“When are you going to Castle Rock next?”

“Probably by the end of this sennight, but I was thinking if you would like to some with. I would like to introduce you to, at least, Sam, Pyp, Grenn and Edd.”

“I would like that. Could I walk a bit Beyond the Wall? I don’t mean far.”

“I think I can arrange that.”

“And I would meet Ghost, right?” she had only seen him in passage when she was younger, and during this visit they were once again mostly out of sight. And she knew Jon’s direwolf didn’t even go South anymore.

“Yes, that’s mandatory.”

“Ohhh… does the Maester at the Wall know of your parentage? You mentioned three people.”

“I don’t think so… I never told him. And I meant the only man that came back with my father after rescuing me; besides Lady Catelyn, of course,” he told her, while opening the door to her. “So this will be our room,” he said, before quickly and nervously adding. “Unless you prefer a room just for you. There are other available divisions, but they are just empty for now.”

“No, I think this will be good,” she said sitting on the bed, and calling for him.

“As you see there’s a fireplace, a closet, through that door – you have a privy and a bathtub. The basin…”

“Jon, I can see the room. Come here.” This time he answered her request, but instead of lying down next to her, he pecked her on the lips and said:

“I have one more thing to show you.” She followed him back downstairs, as he told her if she wanted she could take a look to the other divisions but she wouldn’t find anything interesting.

He stopped in front of the door that she had noticed they had passed by before, and told her to open it, giving her space. The room was very small, and it was different from the others; many more windows, and as she stepped closer she noticed they were stained glass, and then she noticed the small statues and she understood what it was.

“You built me a sept, Jon?!” she asked surprised.

“Sansa helped, she actually travelled here with Robb to see to it. I hope you like it.”

“It’s beautiful.” Of course, she couldn’t compare it to the ones in the South, or even the one in Winterfell, but she had never expected anything like this – and she once again was amazed how simplicity could be so beautiful. “Thank you, Jon. You didn’t need to.”

“Religion is important to you, so it’s important to me. I just ask you, that you let Gendry come if he wants. He’s not very religious, but while he sometimes goes to the Godswood, other times he still prefers to pray to his mother’s Gods.”

“Of course. Tell him, he’s free to come whenever he wants,” as she said it, she noticed that at least the candles at the Mother’s and Warrior’s feet had been lighted multiple times – since they were half the size of the others – and that the Maiden’s candle had been lighted at least once.

“This is our castle. What did you thought of it?” he asked as they left the small sept.

“Thank you, Jon. It’s an amazing start, and we’ll make it our home,” as she spoke, he led her out of the castle, pulling her close to him, and to warm her he rubbed her arm. Joy looked over the small land, men and women laughing, children running and throwing snowballs, and the fires lighting the now dark sky; and so she asked him, “What now?”


End file.
